Look into a woman’s handbag and you see deep into her soul. Tucked into its folds, you’ll find clues about what makes her feel secure, competent and even sexy. Oh, and boring stuff like grocery lists.
That’s how I like to think of my paddock handbag. Escaped heifers, broken fence, tired kids on board? No problem – with my paddock handbag, I’m Superwoman. Compartment A (the glovebox) is kitted out with wipes, toys, snacks and drinks. Compartment B has just about every tool to deal with almost every agrarian contingency.
A good girl scout is always prepared…
I guard my paddock handbag with my life. Yes, the fellas are allowed to borrow select items from time to time but must promise to return said item on pain of death. Call me a drama queen with control issues? Maybe so, but I dare you to return toddler on the verge of a meltdown to within cooee of home “just to grab another set of pliers” and then whisk him away again. It had better be an exciting agrarian emergency with helicopters (aka “copot”), trains and whooshing irrigators aplenty or we’ve already lost the battle.
On second thoughts, maybe I’ll get a padlock fitted to that paddock handbag.
7 thoughts on “My paddock handbag”
You just made me go and look in my own handbag. I’d say I’m a very messy and boring person if it’s a window to my soul!! Best go clean it out 🙂
Oh no – not more mummy guilt, Caz! Maybe it just shows you have more important things to do than tidy your handbag!
Not much in my “hand bag” haha .. my nappy bag is more so the bane of my life at the moment.. Although the dual cab ute is the “hand bag”for the farm = complete with educational DVD for the kids to distract them from the often long wait they have to endure
Blokes have handbags too Marian. Underneath my ute seat is a treasure trove of the basic ‘fix just about anything’ tools to complement the swiss army knife on the belt. It takes a bit of rummaging, but there is always the ‘right sized’ shifting spanner or old bent staple that can be reshaped with hammer and post top to live again as a useful memmber of staple society. And you’re dead right about returning tools. One thing that that transforms me most quickly from Jekyl to Hyde is to have MY PRECIOUS in the form of an expensive set of fencing pliars ‘go walk-about’ without my knowledge.
So what would the psychologists make of the emergency poncho rain coats placed carefully in the glovebox years ago but never used? Hmmmm…..
Fantastic to hear about that stash, Ron. Your staple is my insulator peg. I have an impressive collection of different shapes and sizes on hand salvaged from busted ones.
The ponchos? I’m no psychologist but maybe they’re answering a yearning for a frolic in a sun shower with less well-prepared passengers? Mrs Ron, perhaps?
I always found that that best way to ensure said tools were returned to the box was to spray paint everything Fluoro pink. It also made the tools easier to find underneath the long grass, mulch etc.
I use the same theory with my golf balls- keep em safe fron XY’s!
What a fantastic idea, Julie! Next time I’m in town, pink paint will be on the shopping list!